I
A Storm Is Brewing
No one dared move, letting the silence build. They cowered, like weaklings. Fearful of his building anger.
"Do not say that again, Saris." He snapped across the room.
Five marble bodies pressed up against the glass wall, trying to distant themselves from the pacing, furious Lieutenant. Ron remained frozen by Julia's side, awaiting a consequence for his loose tongue.
"Horatio," Ivan called, but did not dare approach. "They will return soon, you know how Tim's appetite can have him hunting for weeks." His thickly, Russian accent fell into mumbles as his leader did not accept his futile attempt at humour.
Red hair froze as his pacing ceased. Slowly, the Lieutenant looked through the many glass walls of his domain, ruby eyes resting on the midnight sky. In attempt to calm himself, Horatio distanced the current situation, looking upon the ghostly white moon and finding a distraction.
Those infestations, those beasts must have interfered with the hunting party!
"No," he answered lowly, a cringe-causing snarl echoing throughout the damp, musky room. "Something has happened...Calleigh would never leave me without an update for more than a week...something's wrong."
If they have dared to harm her...
Another growl ruptured from the Lieutenant, venom-coated fangs showing his displeasure. Thoughts of the enemy anywhere near his beloved swarmed through his mind, causing echoing snarls to form in the pit of his stomach.
"Let's not think that hastily." Tom offered, trying to save himself from the Lieutenant's infamous temper.
"Calleigh is an independent soul, she'll return when she chooses to – which I say will be soon. Considering her self-rule mingled with Tim's trickster ways, I say those two have led the group on a detour."
The silence became thicker; each occupant of the room could nearly taste it as they waited for their brooding leader to speak again. Tom was the coven's intellectual, his opinion was always highly respected by the Lieutenant.
It's plausible, Horatio thought. Tim Speedle was known for his joking, laid-back ways. Responsibility meant nothing to him. The other two members of his unit, Rose and Ryan would certainly follow his influence like leashes.
But Calleigh, as freely spirited as she was, would never leave her mate to worry about her.
It is un-like her to be selfish and leave the coven in concern.
This meant only one thing to the Lieutenant. Something was wrong.
"Ivan," he drawled, calling forth his militant advisor. In a blink, the Russian was by his side, eager to please and be spared of any fury. Worried, he watched his leader gaze out through the glass walls of their lair, deep in thought.
Mechanically, the Lieutenant turned to face him, an intimidating stare piercing through the Russian soldier.
"Prepare battle plans. If they do not return within a day – we hunt."
Ivan nodded furiously, a grin spreading across his features as he left – the thought of killing electrified his dry veins, making him feel actually alive. The sadistic in Ivan always looked for a reason to fight the wolves, especially after they murdered one of his own, Molly Sloan.
Turning away, the Lieutenant looked through the glass, waiting for his beloved to return.
Shifting nervously away from his mate's side, Ron approached. "Hey champ. That was just a joke 'bout the 'pup chow' thing-"his attempt of lightening the mood was crushed by Horatio's warning growl.
In a blur of silk blond hair, Julia moved and seized his hand, pulling him away from the unstable Lieutenant. Ron was never Horatio's favourite; the two often clashed over the simplest of ideas – Horatio usually the victor. The Lieutenant's skills in battle were only rivalled by his dark personality that craved for justice.
"It's best not to upset him," Julia whispered to her mate, leading him out of the room and to their lodgings near the back of the abandoned science lab. Tom soon followed, preferring to wait down in his morgue, a cold, steel room that he considered his scientific sanctuary.
Left alone with his long-time friend, Frank Tripp approached the Lieutenant, mimicking him and staring out the glass. Just like Horatio, he was awaiting the return of his mate, Rose. The two men sighed in their desperation, their worry for their partners was almost consuming them both.
"Don't mind Sarnoff and Saris," Frank drawled, his Southern roots showing. "Speed and Ryan are our best fighters, nothings gonna happen with them on watch."
Noticing his friend's silent, unconvinced nod, Frank sighed heavily and smirked.
"And Calleigh's a ball of fire on her own; any mutt that tries to take her will suffer a bad, bad death."
One deep chuckle escaped the red-haired Lieutenant, knowing his friend was right. Despite her petite frame and gentle nature, Calleigh Duquesne struck fear in the un-beating hearts of every Miamian vampire.
Before either of the men could speak, a blur of movement caught the Lieutenant's attention. Two pale figures approached the lab, swiftly and gracefully entering through the glass front doors and appearing before the duo seconds later.
The Lieutenant's smile faltered, noticing the lack of happiness on his beloved beautiful face. At close examination, crimson eyes located a small scrape on Calleigh's pale neck.
Anger charged through the Lieutenant like an electric current, echoed by his snarls directed at Ryan.
"What happened?" He growled, taking Calleigh into his arms, glaring at the younger man over her petite build. Ryan was quieter than usual, guilt forming in his golden gaze as he tore his eyes away from the cracked concrete floor.
"H," he breathed deeply, showing repentance. "I'm sorry...Speed was...he's-..." The young vampire could not finish, leaving the Lieutenant's mind to ponder the worst about his brother-like friend.
Not Tim, do not let Tim be...
Even the hardened, ruthless Horatio Caine could not bear to think that Tim Speedle was not alive. The beloved humours son of the coven was their best fighter, it was unfathomable to think the wolves had killed him.
Frank was suddenly by Ryan's side, grabbing his shredded shirt collar. "What about Rose?" he snapped, tearing the material in his grasp. Ryan remained silent.
"What about Rose? Where is she Wolfe-slayer!" The Southern vampire snarled the younger man's given name, based on his many victories in battle against the pack.
Ryan hung his head, unable to say what they all knew. Rose wasn't coming back. Horatio looked to his friend, knowing his mind was plagued with thoughts of his late partner.
"Those animals!" He growled out, tensing as though readying for battle. Knowing that Ryan would be his target, Horatio moved forward, placing a constricting hand on Frank's shoulder, prepared to hold him back if needed.
The second he registered the contact, Frank looked to the Lieutenant, his ruby eyes burning with hatred and angst. Every vampire present knew of, but could not sympathise with Frank's loss. The connection between mates made separation unbearable, especially when said separating veil was death.
"We must slaughter them! Slaughter each and every last one of them!"
Frank's booming snarls echoed through the abandoned lab, drawing the rest of the coven into the 'War Room'. As each entered, Horatio shot them a silencing look, making sure they would not question the suffering Southern vampire.
"What is going on? Where's Rose?" Julia entered demanding answers, fearful of her sister's absence. Horatio sighed to himself but said nothing, unable to say the words; he'd lost two of his coven to a pack of werewolves.
"Hey Wolfie, what the hell happened to you?" Ron hovered near Julia, though his crimson stare was fastened to Ryan's arm. The younger vampire responded to the taunt with a low growl, trying to use his tattered and torn clothing to cover the scar that blended with his many others. Another war-mark to add to his vast collection.
"The Alpha," he explained lowly, only for his Lieutenant's benefit. "Speed was hunting his mate, too wrapped up in the hunt to realise the wolves had him surrounded. I heard him but by the time I got there it was too late...Tim was in pieces..."
Ryan's account left Horatio horrifically astonished; Ryan Wolfe-slayer was the coven's second fastest warrior, topped only by Tim Speedle. If the wolves were crafty and fast enough to out-manoeuvre two of his top generals, then they were a greater threat than he had thought.
A threat to this coven, to Calleigh...
"Lieutenant," Ivan called, cowering slightly as he tore the red-haired leader from his thoughts. Horatio beckoned him forward, knowing the Russian strategist had made a line of attack against the wolves.
Or else he better be able to outrun Frank, who seemed desperate to tear a body limb-from-limb, no matter who it was.
"What is it Ivan?" Calleigh questioned, eyes narrowing at the ruthless Russian. Horatio chuckled silently to himself, though the petite blond felt each tremor against his chest.
Never have I known such a beauty who could show such great depths of compassion yet such fiery loathing.
Ivan was about to give a retort, before seeing the Lieutenant's warning glare. Biting his tongue, he refocused on his task. "The wolves always burn the bodies of their murders. Perhaps this will be our best window of opportunity. Every wolf and surviving tribal human will be there – we can exterminate them all in one swift strike."
Ron scoffed, earning the coven's attention. "Please, are you meaning to tell me those human-rats would risk exposing themselves to us when they've spent years crafting the Everglades into their defensive haven?"
His opinion was shared among the coven, no vampire could fathom the idea.
"He's right," Tom spoke up, instantly gathering their individual attentions. "Our lack of appearance during the day has caused a common belief that we cannot stand the sun. Something about combustion on connection with sunlight. Therefore, the humans believe that during the day, they are safe."
Surprise and disbelief was present on every face in the room, even the Lieutenant's. Are the humans really this naive? To base their survival on fairytales?
Mentally shaking himself, Horatio realised the reason why didn't matter. The fact that Ivan was right bared more importance. It would be wasteful not to take this opportunity to extinguish the werewolf resistance, making Miami a vampire paradise.
This ridiculous misconception could be used to our advantage.
"When do they usually burn the...pieces?" Julia asked, a hiss rippling through her voice as she referred to her lost sister as pieces.
"Usually at dawn." Tom answered her matter-of-factly. His scientific, old mind was unaffected by the tension and building lust for war in the room.
Keeping Calleigh close within his embrace, one hand resting naturally on her hip while hers wrapped around him, Horatio removed a set of tinted sunglasses from his suit jacket, covering his dark crimson eyes in respect of his beloved.
"Then at dawn...we hunt."
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- Mel out ;D